


The Kent Pleasure Palace

by zarabithia



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Crack Treated Seriously, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-29
Updated: 2006-08-29
Packaged: 2019-05-19 15:49:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14876720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarabithia/pseuds/zarabithia
Summary: Bruce has a bad day at work.





	The Kent Pleasure Palace

**Author's Note:**

> This is an odd little story because of the meme that went around a couple weeks ago that went, "Characters X, Y, Z are hookers in a brothel. What do they specialize in?" It kind of mutated from there.

As jobs went, Bruce Wayne didn't have a bad one. There were far worse places he could work than The Kent Pleasure Palace, after all. Also, Bruce was willing to admit that his position as Senior Technical Adviser - which was a fancy way of saying that he was in charge of making sure Mr. Kent's Voyeur Cams worked correctly - put him in a position of envy for fellow geeks everywhere. Kent picked the very best hookers for his brothel, and setting up the "security network" afforded Bruce a rather nice bird's eye view of the selection.

It really _was_ a nice selection. The Kent Pleasure Palace was aptly named, with over 50 hookers in their employ and a brochure that promised "hundreds" of specialties. Bruce rather enjoyed being able to "double check" the security cameras located in say, Ivy or Hal's room in order to watch them masterfully tie up and spank some willing sub, even if Hal apparently had a thing for biting people that Bruce didn't quite get. But none of his customers ever complained, so Bruce figured it counted as one of the hooker's "specialties." Bruce couldn't exactly throw stones in anyone's direction for that particular kink, considering the many, many hours he'd logged in observing Selina and Harvey gleefully flog customers. Harvey was actually a lot better at that particular skill. Still, Selina received far more of the customer base, based simply on the fact that Harvey took turns, along with Dinah, Roy, and Harley, at catering to the more dominant clients.

Even on the days that Bruce wasn't in the mood for tyings, whippings, spankings, and bitings, The Kent Pleasure Palace had plenty to offer. With one push of a button, Bruce's security network could put pull up Dick doing the clean cut jail bait act. . .Barda and Scott doing the threesome kink. . . Oliver providing for multiple clients at a time. . .Wally and Bart looking damn fine as cross-dressers. . .Lois and Vicki providing the lesbian exhibition show . . . Hell, even Barry and Lana's strictly vanilla acts were incredibly stimulating, based solely on the attractiveness of the hookers in question.

Still all the eye candy in the world wasn't worth putting up with discovering Jimmy Olsen's used, come-filled _tissues_ in the waste basket of _Bruce's_ office. It was insulting to the dedication Bruce put into his work, it violated his personal space, and above all else, it was disgusting.

In fairness, Bruce confronted Jimmy first. The little twerp had simply smiled at him, reminded Bruce that _Jimmy_ was the head of Security, and therefore none of the rooms in the Security Wing were off limits, including Bruce's office. "After all," Jimmy had laughed, "The cameras in your office are better for _zooming in_ purposes, if you know what I mean. And being a red blooded male, I'm sure you do."

Despite the mockery Olsen was making of his job, Bruce tried, one more time, to reason with the man. Olsen had merely waved him away and told him to take it up with Mr. Kent if he didn't like it. Bruce thought that was excellent advice, which he took immediately after punching Jimmy Olsen in the nose.

As Bruce stalked out of the Security Wing, he allowed himself a smirk at the knowledge that he had knocked Jimmy so hard that he'd actually been able to _straighten_ that damn crooked bow-tie the man insisted on wearing.

He'd been so angry following his confrontation with Olsen that he'd marched directly to "The Fortress," as the employees jokingly referred to the closed off portion of The Palace that contained both payroll and Kent's office, without so much as a spare thought as to how punching a man that was technically his boss would affect his job. The minute Kent's secretary, Pete Ross, ushered Bruce into the sprawling workspace that Kent was calling an office, Bruce's thoughts came crashing back down into reality. His parents, who hated him working in a brothel so very much, were going to be overjoyed when he called them this weekend, because Bruce had no doubt that he was about to be fired.

The owner of the brothel sat frowning at him from across a desk that would have taken up all of the room in library of Bruce's childhood home. Kent was a fairly affable guy who rarely frowned at people, but right now, Bruce felt as though that glare could have drilled holes through his skull.

Which, of course, was a ridiculous thought.

Part of Bruce was really glad for the severity of Kent's disapproval. It gave Bruce a point of focus, some reason not to stare at the impossibly tight blue shirt that stretched over Kent's very developed muscles. Only a portion of those pectoral muscles could be seen behind that stupid red blazer Kent insisted on wearing, but it was enough of a peak that Bruce couldn't help but want to see more each time he was in his boss' presence. That included now, when he was about to be fired.

Bruce waited patiently for Kent to lean forward in his chair and fold his hands together on top of that desk. "Have a seat, Mr. Wayne."

He complied, somewhat hesitantly, kind of wondering what the hell the point of sitting down was, if he was just going to be fired. If Kent would hurry and get this over with, Bruce could be putting in an application at the Luthor Comfort Inn before noon. They'd been looking for a new network guy, the last Bruce had heard.

But there was absolutely no way Luthor could make a dorky, ill-fitting blazer look that good.

"It's generally against our policy to allow violence in the workplace, Mr. Wayne," Kent began, "However, considering your credentials, the comments on your last performance review, and the reliability with which you perform your job, I'm willing to allow you to tell your side of the story before I make judgments."

Bruce really didn't appreciate Kent's holier-than-thou attitude, but the Luthor Comfort Inn was _smelly,_ and didn't offer nearly as good eye candy as The Kent Pleasure Palace. Unfortunately, Bruce still had a good deal of irritation in him, which resurfaced as he thought about exactly why he'd punched the jackass in charge of security to begin with. Thus, feeling extra defiant, Bruce stared directly into the eyes of a man that ran a brothel and therefore should know all about the rules of body language and submission, and told his story. He watched Kent's face turn from anger to chagrin and finally, to a quiet bemusement. Bruce wondered how Kent ever managed to make it through business meetings without going completely broke. Unless, of course, those rumors about Kent sending Shayera to those meetings in his stead were true. That'd explain a lot, actually. That woman was pretty fierce.

Regardless, Bruce didn't really appreciate being laughed at. Which is why he finished his explanation with a quite bold little statement. "And with all due respect, Mr. Kent, having Mr. Olsen as the chief of security doesn't seem overly prudent."

"Oh, you think not, Mr. Wayne?"

There was that amusement, _again._ "No. He is a spineless, arrogant, incompetent jackass. More importantly, he's hardly capable of doing anything remotely useful in case of a security breach."

"I don't know. I've learned not to judge people by the appearance they give to the public. They just might surprise you."

"Jimmy Olsen is afraid of _spiders_. What possible use could he be in a security breach?"

"I was unaware that spiders were such an important part of the average criminal mastermind's arsenal."

"I'm sorry you didn't get the memo," Bruce snapped, and upon seeing the other man's eyebrows arch, he added, " _Mr._ Kent." The man really _was_ insufferably arrogant, Bruce decided. That didn't change the fact that every hormone Bruce had stood at attention as Kent leaned back in his chair, allowing that dorky jacket to sprawl open and reveal _all_ of those chest muscles in full glory. When Kent's hands moved to the arm rests of his chair and slowly caressed the wood as he looked at Bruce thoughtfully, Bruce's hormones did a veritable dance down his spine.

"If it makes you rest more securely in your boots, Mr. Wayne, Jimmy's primary responsibility is to sign the checks for the security task force. Diana is the active chief of security. So, in case of an _actual_ spider attack, she'll be the one leading the charge."

Bruce decided at that moment that, yes, the Luthor Comfort Inn would be a great place to work. Despite this certainty, a smile tugged at his lips as he replied, " _Good._ "

"As for your other . . .problem," Kent honest-to-God blushed. The man owned a brothel and he could still blush about masturbation? That was utterly bizarre. It was also something that made Bruce wonder what else he could do to make Kent blush. "I will talk to Jimmy about it. I don't think you'll have any further problems, but if you do, please let _me_ handle it. I don't like violence."

"K- _Mr._ Kent, I don't mean to be rude, but why does Olsen even work here? He doesn't look like he could have passed any of the numerous tests I had to take in order to even get an interview."

Kent removed his glasses long enough to rub his eyes. When he returned Bruce's gaze, the stark blueness of those eyes - that was so impossibly hidden behind those Fifties glasses - made him immediately decide that, no, Luthor's Comfort Inn wasn't the place for him at all. "Jimmy is a friend of mine, Mr. Wayne, and loyalty is very important at The Kent Pleasure Palace. Can you understand that?"

"Of course, but isn't there a job he's . . .more suited for?"

Kent smirked at him. "Are you still worried about the spider invasion, Mr. Wayne, or are you simply trying to get him out of your department?"

"We'll call it a little of both."

"I see. I'm afraid you're stuck with him. Keeping him where he is keeps his attention off the workers."

By workers, Kent really meant _hookers,_ not the various other staff at the brothel. "So the infamous 'touch and you're fired' rule doesn't apply to the higher ups? That's good to know."

Kent leaned forward, all good humor gone. "The day Jimmy - or anyone else working here - touches the workers is the day they're fired. To my knowledge, Jimmy has never broken that rule, and it's merely his prolonged staring that disturbs the workers. Do you have evidence to the contrary?"

The man could blush at masturbation, run a brothel, _and_ come the very closest that anyone ever had at intimidating Bruce. He wasn't _quite_ intimidated, but the intensity in Kent's voice was enough to make a ring of sweat break out around Bruce's collar. "No, Sir," he responded quickly. "I do not."

Kent relaxed, somewhat, but didn't lean backwards in his chair. "Good. Now if there's nothing else, you're free to go."

There really wasn't anything else, despite the fact that Bruce felt compelled to ask, "Does the rule apply to you too?"

"What rule?" Kent was almost as cute when he was confused as he was when he was trying to be intimidating.

"The No Touching the Workers rule."

Kent narrowed his eyes. "Of course it does."

Bruce smiled his best flirtatious smile at the man and commented lightly, with a shrug, "That must get awfully frustrating for you." To illustrate his intentions, Bruce leaned forward, so that he was leaning towards Kent from the opposite side of the desk. After all, as Mr. Fox had once told Bruce's father, a sexually frustrated boss wasn't good for business. Bruce did, after all, enjoy working at The Kent Pleasure Palace, and therefore naturally wanted business to be good.

Kent's face relaxed and he returned Bruce's smile. "Yes, it certainly can."

"On the other hand, I'm pretty sure that if _that_ rule applies to you, so too should the _feel free to date anyone who's not a hooker_ rule."

" _Worker._ And, yes, I suppose so," Kent's smile suddenly turned as predatory as was befitting the man who ran a brothel. "Most people are too intimidated to approach me, however."

" _I'm_ not intimidated by you, Mr. Kent."

"That remains to be seen, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce was rather certain that his idea of kissing Kent was ingenious both because it wiped the cocky look off Kent's face and because it solved the man's sexual frustration. Also, it allowed his hormones enough relief that they finally decided to quiet down. Judging by the enthusiasm with which Kent returned the kiss, he must have agreed with at least one of Bruce's motives.  
*******


End file.
